


In a Book in a Box High Upon a Shelf

by jule1122



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2418689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jule1122/pseuds/jule1122
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all anniversaries are cause for celebration or 5 years after the bombing of Babylon</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Book in a Box High Upon a Shelf

Brian’s day got off to a fabulous start. He woke to Justin’s mouth, warm, wet, and soft, around his cock. Brian opened his eyes and stretched. If the motion happened to push his cock further into Justin’s mouth, he wasn’t complaining. And the way Justin sucked harder and winked at him let him know Justin was equally pleased. Brian flopped back against the pillow. Closing his eyes, he let the rhythmic motion of Justin’s mouth and the stroke of his hands across his thighs and over his balls bring him closer and closer to orgasm.

Just when he was about to shoot, Justin released his cock and slapped his ass.

“If you want to be on time for your meeting, you’d better get in the shower right now.”

“What the fuck?” Brian opened his eyes and found Justin already gone. He stumbled into the bathroom to find the water running and a condom sitting on the counter.

“Fucker,” he muttered under his breath. Through the frosted glass, he watched Justin sliding two soapy fingers in and out of his hole. Brian grabbed the condom and walked into the shower.

When Justin heard the door open, he stopped fingering himself and leaned forward against the wall. Bracing himself with his arms, he wiggled his ass at Brian.

Brian walked up behind him then leaned down and whispered in his ear. “What makes you think I won’t put you on the first flight back to New York for that little stunt?” Before Justin could answer, Brian entered him with one swift thrust and smiled triumphantly when Justin gasped.

Justin pressed back and took Brian in deeper then he squeezed his ass around Brian’s cock. “You wouldn’t want to miss out on this,” he said smugly after Brian groaned.

Not to be outdone, Brian reached around and grabbed Justin’s dick. “You might have a point, but don’t get cocky.”

Justin’s dick was wet and slick with soap, Brian’s hand slid easily up and down as he fucked Justin with short, hard thrusts. He heard Justin’s breath catch so he stroked him faster and faster until his come splattered the shower wall. Pressing as deep as he could into Justin’s ass, Brian found his own release.

 

He made it to his meeting with a minute to spar, but didn’t even have time to stop for coffee on the way. When he walked into the diner for lunch, he noticed groups of people sitting huddled together and talking quietly. Even Debbie’s greeting was subdued.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he slid into the seat next to Michael. 

“Didn’t you read the paper?” Emmett looked up with misty eyes. “There’s an article on the fifth anniversary of the bombing.

Ted slid the newspaper across the table. “Liberty Avenue Rocked By Bombing Five Years Ago Today.” Brian skimmed the article and found it nothing more than a rehash of everything that had been written before. There was a list of the dead, a few quotes from survivors on their memories of the events, and some highlights from Michael’s speech. Then he saw the picture. One look at Babylon burning, scared, hurt people wandering the street in front of it, and he was right back there. He tightened his hand into a fist to keep from reaching for his phone to call Justin and make sure he was alright. He clenched the paper than shoved it back across the table.

“I have better things to do with my time than read that rag,” Brian said dismissively. “Debbie, make my order to go. See you boys later.”

“Brian?” Michael called, but he was already at the counter.

“What was that about? Debbie asked when she came by their table a few minutes later. “I was going to ask him if he thought we should have a little service in front of Babylon tonight, but he grabbed his order and ran.”

Ted looked up from the paper he was smoothing the wrinkles out of. “I don’t see that happening.”

Debbie looked at the door again before turning back to them. “I’m not sure what’d we do anyway. There’s sure as fuck nothing to celebrate, but I don’t think mourning will do us any good either. I can’t believe it’s been five years.”

“And not a whole lot has changed,” Emmett said glumly.

“It’s never been easy.” Debbie reached over and patted Emmett’s hand. Then she looked at Michael and brightened. “Sweetie, it was so nice to see your wonderful words in print! You really are an inspiration.”

“Thanks, Ma.” Michael blushed then tried to change the subject. “So what is anyone doing tonight?”

 

Ben saw the article during a break after his morning classes. He read it in his office and tried to stop the growing feelings of anger, fear, and helpless that still came with thinking about the bombing, thinking about almost losing Michael. When Michael had come home from the hospital, he’d put so much effort into not dwelling on it. And life had gone on.

But Ben knew despite the philosophies that helped him accept his HIV status, he would never be at peace with what happened that night. There had been no justice. No one had claimed responsibility, there had been no arrests. Seven people dead, so many lives shattered, all for nothing. He’d come so close to having his own life destroyed because some coward wanted to make a point. 

Realizing he needed to get to his last class, Ben took a deep breath and tried to center himself. When he walked into class, his students were laughing and talking about the new 3-D movie they all wanted to see. Ben felt his anger flare again. Didn’t they care?

“Hey, Professor.” One of his students called out a greeting when they spotted him. Their discussions quickly died off as they turned their attention to him.

Ben was tempted to say something about the article, but then he looked at his students. They were so young, freshmen mostly, barely old enough to vote. Five years ago they hadn’t even started high school; if they remembered the bombing at all, it would be a distant memory. They couldn’t give him the discussion he craved; there would be no creative outlet for his feeling here.

Anger faded to a feeling of isolation, Ben gave them an impromptu writing assignment and moved to the desk he rarely used. He pulled the paper from his briefcase and set the article on the desk.

 

Emmett couldn’t focus on the party he was supposed to be organizing. He kept thinking about what he’d said to Debbie about how things hadn’t changed much in five years. It wasn’t like him to be so cynical, but as much as Emmett had always been able to face down hate, he couldn’t understand senseless violence. When he caught himself wishing for pudding, Emmett finally found a reason to laugh.

“Where’s Drew when I need him?” he muttered to himself.

“Who’s Drew?” Marcus, one of the set-up crew asked.

“Just an old boyfriend. I was thinking about him today.”

“You should look him up. I bet he’s on Facebook.”

“Honey, if I took the time to troll Facebook for every handsome man from my past, I wouldn’t have time to work. Which is what you should be doing right now.”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I bet you could find him.”

Emmett had too much dignity to admit he’d already looked. Besides, it’s not like he couldn’t call Drew if he wanted to. They’d parted as friends and even had dinner before Drew left to work in the athletic department of a small college in Minnesota. Even if their promises to keep in touch had proved meaningless, Emmett knew Drew would understand his calling today.

But Emmett didn’t know what he would even say so he tried to forget about Drew and how he’d known how to shake Emmett out of his funk. After driving everyone crazy with his own inattention, Emmett finally went home early.

After a few hours of restlessly prowling his apartment, Emmett was about to call Ted and see what he and Blake were up to when the phone rang. “Hello,” he snatched the phone up quickly.

“Emmett, it’s Drew.”

“Drew, what a surprise! I was just thinking about you.”

“I thought you might be.” Drew cleared his throat. “I mean I saw the article and wanted to see how you were.”

“I didn’t realize it was carried nationally.”

“I read the Gazette online,” Drew corrected.

“Of course, why didn’t I think of that.” Emmett felt like he was still a step behind the conversation. “Well, to answer your question, it’s been an odd day, but I’m fine. How are you?”

“I guess saying it’s an odd day it as good a way to put it as I can come up with. It’s funny, I haven’t thought about that night for years, and today, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Yes,” Emmett agreed quietly.

“It’s not the only reason I called though. I’m going to be in Pittsburgh next week, interviewing with the Ironmen, actually, for a position on the radio network. I was hoping we could have dinner.”

“Oh Drew, I don’t know.” It seemed like too much to process after the day Emmett had had.

“No pressure, Emmett. I actually had my twenty-first birthday a few years ago. I thought about calling then, but I was settled here, and it didn’t seem fair. I’m just hoping to see a friendly face while I’m in town.”

Emmett knew that the Fates were probably laughing at him, but he couldn’t help but smile. “That sounds nice as long as I get to pick the restaurant. I have very high standards you know.”

Drew’s laugh sounded more relieved than amused. “Thanks Emmett. I’ll call you when I get in.”

When Emmett hung up, he was still restless, but now it was from anticipation. Maybe something good would come of this day after all.

 

Jennifer called Justin to tell him about the article. They talked for a few minutes before her next client came in. “I’m so glad you’re home, Honey,” she said in a slightly shaky voice just before they ended the call.

“Yeah, me too,” Justin echoed softly before he hung up.

Justin read the article online. He tried to remember his life before that night and found it almost impossible to put himself back there. Everything had changed. Brian, his career, his family, everything. He closed his eyes and let his feelings take shape. He could see the colors, could begin to imagine the focal points and intersections. 

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and reached for his sketchpad. 

He was still trying to follow his vision when Brian came home. He looked at the scattered papers, some sketches, some printouts, and raised his eyebrow. “I guess I don’t have to ask what you were doing all day.”

Justin stood and made a face when he realized how stiff he was. “You know how it is when inspiration strikes. How was your meeting?”

“I got to dazzle clients and terrify half my staff all at once.”

“Sounds like a good day?” Justin regarded Brian carefully and waited to see if he’d bring up the article.

“Just a typical demonstration of my genius. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Uh-huh,” Justin nodded and decided to let it go. “You want to go out?”

Brian shook his head and began undressing. “Thought we’d stay in tonight. I still owe you from this morning.” He advanced toward Justin, moving him toward the bedroom.

“We’ll see who comes out on top,” Justin challenged with a laugh.

 

When Ted finally made it home, he wasn’t sure if Blake would even be awake. He took a shower and slid quietly into bed. He jumped a little when Blake turned and wrapped his arm around his waist.

“That was a long meeting. Everything okay?” Blake asked quietly.

“It’s better now. I can’t believe how much reading that article about the bombing bothered me. I thought I’d put that all behind me.” Ted shivered in the darkness, and Blake pulled him closer.

“It was a horrible night.”

“Looking at that picture, I could practically taste the smoke. I was so damn scared.”

“Wait,” Blake interrupted. “You were there?”

“Didn’t I ever tell you?” When he felt Blake shake his head, Ted thought about it. “I guess I didn’t. By the time we met again, I was over the worst of it, and it really isn’t something that comes up in conversation. Even when Babylon reopened, I was so focused on moving forward that I didn’t want to think about _why_ we were rebuilding.”

“But you thought about it today.”

Ted was sure he’d said everything he needed to at the meeting, but somehow in his bed with Blake, he realized he still needed to talk about it. He told Blake everything he remembered, told him about his fear and guilt and avoidance. And Blake listened.

“It was the most out of control, helpless, and scared I’d felt since I stopped using. I didn’t know what to do,” Ted concluded.

“You might have felt out of control and helpless, but you found your way, Ted. You always do,” Blake reassured him.

“And look at what I’ve found my way to.” Ted brushed his fingers along Blake’s face before kissing him softly.

 

Ben waited impatiently for Michael to get home. As soon as he walked in the door, Ben pulled him into his arms and held him tightly. “I love you so much,” he whispered roughly.

“I love you too,” Michael’s voice was muffled by Ben’s chest. He stroked Ben’s back and gently eased them apart. “Now that I can breathe, what was that?”

Ben framed his face and kissed him deeply before pulling back and resting his face along side Michael’s. He drew comfort from the warmth of Michael’s breath against his cheek. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Then don’t.” Michael guided him to the couch and met his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. Don’t let those people who wanted to hurt us and scare us do this to you.”

“Kill, Michael, they wanted to kill us. And they almost killed you.” Ben started to get up to pace, but Michael pulled him back down. “I couldn’t stop thinking about that. They almost killed you, and they got away with it.”

“But they didn’t win. Because we’re still here, together, raising our family and loving each other. They couldn’t kill that. No one can.”

Michael looked at him with such conviction and love that Ben finally stopped being angry. “You always know what to say.”

Michael laughed loudly. “Only you and my mother would ever say that.”

“Debbie’s a wise woman. I know better than to argue with her.” Ben pulled Michael close and let the feeling of holding him in his arms soothe him. 

They talked about Hunter and Michael’s favorite new comic book. They kissed and laughed, and Ben let Michael talk him into ordering pizza for dinner. After dinner, Ben put in a CD and pulled Michael into his arms for a dance. One song led to another and as they danced Ben leaned down to nuzzle the soft skin along Michael’s neck. Michael worked his hands under Ben’s shirts, stroking the last of the tension from his muscles before pulling the shirt off completely. They kissed and stumbled their way back to the couch; neither of them noticed when the music ended.

 

Marie mailed a copy of the article to Melanie and Lindsay. Melanie opened the mail when she brought the kids home from the sitters. She saw the note Marie had attached “I still miss her everyday,” and hastily shoved the paper back in the envelope. She thought of how genuinely happy Marie had looked at her wedding last year. It had been wonderful to see her, even better to see her smile, but still painful to see the children smile with Dusty’s smile and eyes while calling another woman “Mommy.”

She and Lindsay read the article together that night in bed. “I can’t believe it’s been five years,” Lindsay sighed. “It seems like it just happened, but I can barely remember life before that.”

”I know what you mean. Sometimes it seems like we’ve always been here, just you and me and the kids together. But all I have to do is close my eyes, and I’m back in Pittsburgh wondering if Michael was going to survive, wondering how I got lucky enough to get you back.”

Lindsay kissed her softly before picking up Marie’s note. “We were, _are_ , so incredibly lucky. Sometimes we forget not everyone was.”

Melanie nodded. She ran her fingers along the list of those killed. “It seems like there should be more names. When I think about it, I can’t believe more people didn’t die.”

“Only seven.” Lindsay shook her head and let out a horrified chuckle. “I can’t believe I just said that. Only seven. Like that’s not enough to be tragic, like it’s not seven too many. One is too many, and we say only seven because we are so immune to tragedy that without a high death count we lose interest. What’s happened to us?”

Melanie didn’t have an answer so she stayed silent. She thought again of Dusty and Marie’s children who only knew Dusty through the photos Marie kept out and the stories she told them. “One is too many. Dusty, God,” her voice cracked. “Dusty was too many.”

Lindsay pulled Melanie down so her head rested on Lindsay’s breast. She closed her eyes and held back her tears as Lindsay stroked her back. Melanie wrapped her arms around Lindsay and kissed the slope of her breast.

“I love you,” Lindsay whispered into her hair.

Melanie nodded and thought of all the blessings they had in their life. She tilted her face up so she could see Lindsay. “We should pick a weekend next month and take the kids to Pittsburgh to see their fathers.”

Lindsay smiled. “I’d like that,” she replied softly. She smoothed Melanie’s hair off her face then slid down in the bed so they could curl up together.

It was a long time before either of them fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Brian made it to the diner for breakfast only to find everyone still fixated on the bombing. 

“You won’t believe who I’m having dinner with next week. Drew saw the article online and called me last night. It was the most amazing thing because I’d been thinking about him all day. I don’t know how I would have gotten myself together without him,” Emmett practically burst with the news as soon as Ted sat down.

“I think everyone remembers his speech at the vigil. Between that and Ben freaking out, it was quite an event.”

“I never realized how angry Ben was,” Michael said. 

“You might have been a distracted by almost bleeding to death,” Brian interjected sarcastically.

Ted laughed a little, but Michael ignored him. “We never really talked about it. We were so happy to have Hunter back, and Ben was so focused on taking care of me that I never knew how much Ben was affected.”

“Blake didn’t even know I was there,” Ted shook his head, still surprised that he’d never told Blake. “I guess I just assumed he knew.”

“It sounds like all of us were trying to forget it ever happened,” Emmett said.

Just then Debbie came to take their order. “So how are you boys? I could hardly sleep last night thinking about how scared I was when I found out Michael was hurt. Then I remembered all those poor people who died.”

“Isn’t there something, **anything** , else you could possibly find to talk about?” Brian interrupted loudly.

Everyone turned and stared at him. Debbie’s pencil remained poised above her orderpad, and the silence grew until finally Ted said meekly, “I’ll have a hard boiled egg and whole wheat toast.”

Brian sighed loudly and elbowed Michael out the way. He left without another word.

 

Three days later, Brian had barely made it home when someone knocked loudly. He pulled the door open and found Debbie standing there with a casserole dish in each arm. He raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything.

Debbie rolled her eyes and pushed him out of the way. “You can’t be that surprised to see me. You haven’t been back to the diner since your breakfast tantrum. You had to know I’d show up eventually.”

“I do not have tantrums,” Brian protested without much conviction. Then he eyed the two casserole dishes Debbie held. “How long are you planning on staying?”

Debbie hefted the dish from her left arm onto the counter. “This one is carbonara for Sunshine.”

“How is it you keep bringing me tuna, and Justin gets carbonara?”

Debbie shrugged. “He has expensive tastes; he always has. Might explain some of what he saw in you.”

Brian gave her a puzzled look. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”

“I don’t know. Ask me after I’m high.” Debbie giggled. “Oh, and you’d better have some pot. Ever since Carl brought that retired police dog home, I can’t keep a secret stash around the house.”

“I hope you’re staying at Michael’s tonight because you aren’t hiding out here.” Brian went into his bedroom then returned with his box of pot and wrappers. He sat next to Debbie at the counter and started rolling the first joint.

“Speaking of hiding,” Debbie began.

“Could you try for even a little subtlety?” Brian interrupted her.

“As I was saying,” Debbie continued loudly. “What’s with the disappearing act?

“I’ve been busy.”

“You’ve never been so busy that you didn’t stop in the diner for three days.”

“Oh is it still a diner? I thought maybe it had been turned into a museum dedicated to bad things that happened to good queers.”

“You won’t scare me off by being crass so watch your mouth when you talk about what happened to our community, to our family that awful night”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brian said with only a little sarcasm.

“I know you don’t like remembering what happened any more than the rest of us do. We all carry scars from that night even if you can’t see them like you can Michael’s. But I know you Brian, and it’s more than memories of the bombing that have you running scared.”

Brian very carefully began rolling a second joint.

Debbie sighed loudly. “Well, since you asked so nicely, here’s what I think. Almost losing Justin and Michael scared the shit out of you. Michael was easy. You’ll always be his best friend so it didn’t take much to get you two back on track. But you didn’t know what to do about Sunshine. All you knew is that you wanted him with you and safe.”

“You,” Debbie jabbed a finger in Brian’s face. “You have never known what to do with love. So next thing you know you’re buying a fancy house, and Emmett’s scouring the world for some crazy flower Justin wants.”

”Golden gardenias.” Brian interjected.

“Whatever. The point is you couldn’t just tell him you loved him. You had to orchestrate some big event you wouldn’t have known what to do about if it actually happened. But then you got lucky, and Justin went to New York.”

”I was practically left at the altar, and you call that lucky?”

“Now Justin’s home again,” Debbie kept going as if Brian hadn’t spoken. “But neither of you are talking about houses or gardenias. Then suddenly everyone starts talking about that night again and how it changed them. You changed more than anyone, Brian. So why aren’t you living up to your promises?”

“I’m not walking down any aisles, Deb.” Brian finally looked up and met her eyes.

“You’re the only one who ever needed the fireworks, Honey. Don’t ever think that you aren’t enough without them. Justin’s loved you since the moment he set eyes on you. Nothing’s ever changed that. When you thought you might have lost Justin, you knew in your heart what you wanted. Don’t run away now that it’s actually possible.”

Brian looked away, his eyes glancing from the ceiling to the floor and back again. When he realized Debbie was done, he handed her a joint. “I thought life lessons were supposed to come after we were high.”

“It’s been so damn long since I had a joint, I want to enjoy every moment of this one. Now hand me the lighter.”

 

It was another week before Justin asked him to meet him at his studio. He walked in and found Justin at the sink washing brushes. He came up behind him and kneaded his shoulders. When Justin moaned and leaned his head back, Brian bent down and kissed his neck. “So what’s the big surprise?”

Justin reached back and squeezed the back of Brian’s neck before nodding in the direction of a large covered canvas. “Give me a second, and I’ll show you.”

Brian stayed a few steps behind Justin as he walked over and uncovered the painting. “Jesus, Justin,” Brian said as soon as he saw it. He pinched the bridge of his nose and looked at the floor. He hadn’t had to look away from one of Justin’s pieces since the one and only time Justin had tried to sketch something from the disjointed pieces of memory he had of the moments before the bashing.

Taking a deep breath, he looked back up. The painting was stunning, powerful, and indescribable. Brian knew most people would only see the way the colors and shadows played off each other; they would see the whole but would miss the story. But Brian could read the story of every brushstroke from the dark chaotic center, to the individual paths of light that shot off from it. Some died off, some spiraled out of control, others traveled together, and some danced around each other before coming together in a shower of light.

“Brian?” Justin had come to stand beside him. He didn’t look at the painting, but kept his attention on Brian. He watched while Brian continued to stare at the painting, running a comforting hand up and down along Brian’s spine.

“When’s you next show?” Brian finally asked.

Justin made a quick face. “About six weeks, I think.”

“You’re going to show it?” When Justin didn’t answer, Brian looked at him. He saw the hesitation in Justin’s face so when he said it again it wasn’t a question. “You’re going to show it.”

“I want to.”

Brian nodded. “You need to. The reviews are going to be out of this world. But I want it.”

Justin’s smile lit up his face, but all he said was, “Okay.”

Brian helped Justin recover the painting and finish cleaning the studio. They didn’t talk much other than to decide to stop for Chinese on the way home. When they got back to the loft, Brian put the food on the counter, but neither of them was interested in eating.

“I’m going to take a shower.” Justin gestured toward the bathroom then walked away when Brian nodded and moved the food to the fridge.

Once the food was put away, Brian changed into sweatpants, but didn’t bother with a shirt. He made himself put his clothes away before looking on the shelf in the closet for what he needed. He was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting when Justin came out of the bathroom.

He looked at Brian and grabbed a pair of his own sweatpants before sitting next to him. “You could have joined me,” he said with a smile.

Brian ran his hands through Justin’s damp hair, twisting the longer ends around his finger. He tugged him forward for a kiss. “Later,” he promised.

Leaning his head on Justin’s shoulder, he nuzzled his neck then brushed away the droplets of water that fell into his eyes. “I want to take the painting to the house,” he said against Justin’s ear.

“Really?” Justin turned forcing Brian to lift his head. “The den has some great light that could work well if we hang it on the far wall. We might need to repaint though.”

“We’ll figure it out.” Brian couldn’t help but respond to Justin’s enthusiasm. “I was thinking we could start spending some time out there. Maybe a weekend every now and again.”

“That would be nice,” Justin agreed. “It shouldn’t be left empty all the time.”

Brian took a deep breath and decided to go for it. He pulled the box out from behind him and set it in front of Justin. He didn’t look at Justin as he opened it. “I’m going to start wearing this. I want you to wear yours.” Brian forced himself to look up.

Justin’s face was filled with joy. He held out his hand; it was shaking slightly. “Yes,” he said.

Relief made Brian giddy, and he laughed. “Yes, what?” he asked.

“Yes, I want to wear your ring.” Justin’s voice was solemn, but he couldn’t stop smiling.

Brian slid the ring onto Justin’s finger. He pressed his forehead to Justin’s and looked down at his hand. He traced the line of his finger, trying to get used to the feel of the gold against Justin’s skin. Brian turned his head and kissed Justin’s temple before pulling back and handing him the ring box.

“Put it on me.” Brian was smiling, but his voice was husky and rough.

Justin threw his head back and laughed. Then he reached for Brian’s hand and slid the ring into place. It fit perfectly. Justin pressed the palms of their left hands together then entwined their fingers. He leaned down and kissed Brian’s finger where the ring rested.

Brian caught him in a kiss as he sat up. He pulled him close with his right arm, keeping their left hands clasped together. He kissed Justin again, trailing his lips along his jaw before reaching his ear and whispering, “Welcome home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the QAF Anniversary Gala celebrating the 5th anniversary of 513. Title from the amazing Barenaked Ladies song "For You." Thank you to thymewriter for the beta work.


End file.
